


The Kings - Servant and Master

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [45]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Humour, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mistaken Identity, erotic art, subservience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin visits Thranduil in Mirkwood and finds an unexpected person down in the artists’ studio.  Time for a bit of pornographic art to hang on the wall?  Can be read as a standalone but is part of the Two Kings series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings - Servant and Master

 

 

.o00o.

 

Just a note to say that, although this can be read as a standalone, it continues the story of the two kings and the servant, ‘Sebastian’, whom we first meet in the previous episode: _The Kings and a Question of Love._

 

The Kings – Servant and Master

 

Pt I

 

Thorin lay on his back in bed, sullenly counting the cracks in the ceiling.  Thranduil had left for Mirkwood at dawn, saying rather curtly that he had spent enough time in Erebor: and whose fault was that, the dwarf might have asked?   But Thorin was still lying there: he had no-one and nothing to get up for.  John, his personal servant from Dale, who was now always in Erebor when Thranduil wasn’t, would be turning up later that morning, but, until then, he just couldn’t be bothered to rouse himself.

 

And besides, he was feeling stiff and sore after the mauling his lover had given him these past few days.  Two weeks earlier, ‘Sebastian’ had come to take over from John whilst John was looking after his sick sister.  And what an enjoyable two weeks that had been – until Thorin had discovered that the handsome young man was actually Thranduil, using his powers of glamourie to disguise himself so that he could test Thorin’s fidelity.  And the dwarf had failed the test because he had fallen in love with Sebastian who had really been Thranduil who was pretending to be Sebastian etc etc.  The resultant row had been very nasty, each blaming the other.

 

That was two days ago.  They had eventually forgiven each other, of course, and, that first night, Thranduil’s love-making had been warm and tender – as beautiful as the night that Thorin had spent with Sebastian.  The elf had surrendered himself to the dwarven king, just as Sebastian had done, and it was all very, very lovely.

 

But, Thranduil had soon returned to his usual self: arrogant, overbearing, domineering – quite unlike the sweetnatured, nurturing and submissive servant persona he had taken upon himself during the previous two weeks.  And, as Thorin lay there, he had to admit that he missed Sebastian – very much – and he idled away the next hour just thinking about him – his looks, his body, his delightful manner.

 

Then, for some reason, he suddenly wondered if there was a real Sebastian  -  after all, he was supposed to have been John’s nephew.  And he leaped out of bed and hastily washed and got dressed and paced around the apartment waiting for John’s arrival so that he could ask him some surreptitious questions.

 

John finally entered rather apprehensively – he knew from experience that people’s ‘little jokes’ could easily misfire, especially such an elaborate one as the elf had played upon his master: he had been a participant in a minor way and he wondered if he were in trouble.  But, he relaxed when Thorin gave him a welcoming smile.

 

“Good to have you back, John!” his king exclaimed cheerfully.  “……Although your ‘nephew’ did do an excellent job!”

 

“I’m glad you appear to have enjoyed my lord Thranduil’s little piece of mischief,” John said cautiously in response.

 

“Yes, indeed,” laughed Thorin.  “It was quite a remarkable deception and I was fooled almost right to the end.  He was a perfect servant and I could easily have believed that he had been trained by you.”

 

“And I wish,” John sighed, “that my actual nephew was a trained servant too.  Instead, he is a wastrel and a layabout.  One of the reasons why I thought my sister would appreciate my return from Minas Tirith.”

 

Thorin felt vaguely disappointed.   “And is Sebastian a good-looking youth with blond hair and a beard?” he persisted.

 

“No, he’s dark-haired and clean-shaven.  Not good-looking at all.  And his name is actually Garth.”

 

The bubble finally burst for Thorin.  Sebastian had been a fantasy concocted by the elven king.  He didn’t exist and it was time he stopped thinking about him.  The only thing he could do was to persuade Thranduil to sometimes be Sebastian, just for him.  However, he had already tentatively asked his lover about the difficulties involved in the disguise and the elf had explained how exhausting it had been, not only to change his face, but also to be someone that he most definitely was not.  Well, perhaps the elven king would do it just very occasionally, as a treat for his beloved.  And, with that thought, Thorin had to be content.

 

.o00o.

 

The next two weeks passed smoothly enough.  Thranduil had spent more than his allotted time in Erebor - although most of that had been in his disguise – and he had been anxious to get back to his duties in Mirkwood.  “I’m already in trouble,” he had said, after receiving yet another complaining letter from Legolas who was holding the fort.  “And I also have a special appointment with someone, so I must leave,” he had added, raising a mysterious eyebrow.  But Thorin was feeling grumpy and had refused to respond to this tease.  Now he was wondering vaguely what all that had been about.

 

Well, he would soon find out, he thought, as he finally mounted his horse to leave for Mirkwood.  “Safe journey, sir,” John called after him, as he clattered out of the courtyard.

 

Yes, it had been a safe and very boring journey and now he was back in the elven stronghold for his two week stint there.  He hurried up to the elven king’s apartments, somehow wanting to make things up to him for all those unfaithful thoughts about Sebastian.  It was very confusing really.  Could you be unfaithful if you were lusting after your partner in some elaborate disguise?  He didn’t know and he wished, not for the first time, that such a silly deception hadn’t entered Thranduil’s head because all it had done was make him feel very muddled.  Still, two weeks of intense sexual fun should soon sort out the problem.

 

But, when he entered the apartment, there was no sign of his lover.  He dumped his baggage in the bedroom and made some enquiries of the guard at the end of the corridor.

 

“I believe he’s down in the Studio, sir.”

 

“The Studio?” asked a puzzled Thorin.

 

It was apparently the artists’ studio and he was given directions.  Thorin hurried off curiously.  Apart from its use in architecture, design and sculpture, art was not a dwarven thing; and he wondered if the studio was full of paintings.  But, when he entered the spacious and light-filled room, he had no time to study the many paintings hanging on the walls and standing on easels because, on the far side of the room, cleaning his brushes with an oily rag, stood Sebastian!

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

 

Thorin teetered on the threshold of the studio for a moment feeling confused, excited and touched in equal measure.  Was this a surprise that Thranduil had arranged for him?  Had he used his power of glamourie to become Sebastian for a few hours just to give the dwarf an afternoon of pleasure upon his arrival?  The thought of an erotic session in the studio, spent with a submissive ‘servant’, prompted an immediate arousal, and Thorin hastened across the room and swept a rather startled Sebastian into his arms.

 

“I have come, my love,” whispered Thorin throatily; and he pressed his lips to those of the handsome young man whilst his hand seized a buttock and pulled him into his groin.  Their tongues touched and the dwarf’s rapidly hardening cock dug forcefully against that of the youth. 

 

Thorin pulled the tie from Sebastian’s man-bun and the golden hair uncoiled its way down his back.  The dwarven king just loved the way it did that and the very least that Thranduil could do for him in the future was to occasionally tie back his hair in a similar way.  He grabbed a hank and, pulling back his head, kissed his exposed throat, slowly pushing him backwards towards a long couch.  The young man fell sprawling upon the cushions, and, breathing hard, Thorin swiftly unbuttoned Sebastian’s breeches and, seizing his prick, sucked it greedily into his mouth.

 

Sebastian squirmed and groaned in the sweetest way and dug his fingers into the dwarf’s long, dark hair.  Thorin, with one knee on the couch and one foot on the floor, tried desperately to carry on sucking and get his own breeches undone at the same time.

 

“This is all very nice,” Sebastian suddenly gasped, pushing his cock further down Thorin’s throat, “but shouldn’t we be introduced first?”

 

Thorin let go of the swollen member so quickly that the young man nearly fell from the couch.  “But….but, you’re Sebastian, aren’t you?” he stuttered.

 

The young man smiled amiably and swung himself up into a sitting position.  “Yes, that’s right: Sebastian, the artist from Minas Tirith.  I’ve recently taken up my new post here.  But,” and his grin widened, “I’m sure I would have remembered _you_ if we had met before.”  And he reached out to pull the dwarf between his thighs.

 

“Thorin!!!”  A furious voice echoed around the room and a horrified Thorin looked over his shoulder to see the elven king, volcanic in his wrath, in the doorway of the studio.

 

“Get back to our rooms!” yelled the elf.  “And, for Eru’s sake, do up your breeches!”

 

Shocked and embarrassed, Thorin made his exit like a naughty schoolboy.  “And,” continued Thranduil, turning to Sebastian, “if you want to hold onto this job, you’d best be careful who you fuck!”  He glared meaningfully at the artist’s now limp cock and swept from the room.  Sebastian shoved his member quickly away, shaking his head and wondering about the very strange behaviour of elves and dwarves who were down your breeches one minute and shouting at you the next.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin was ready for his one true love when the elven king came crashing into the room.  He held up the palm of his hand to stop him in his tracks.

 

“And before you say anything, this is all your fault, you and your silly ideas.  I didn’t realise that a real Sebastian existed and I thought he was you.  Why else do you think I was messing around with him on the couch?”  He said all this in highly indignant tones.

 

Thranduil looked as though he could punch Thorin on the nose.

 

“Then what was all that rubbish you spouted a few weeks ago about your heart and your body knowing it was me even when I looked like Sebastian?   What went wrong this time?” he yelled.

 

“I was thrown completely off my guard!” Thorin yelled back.  “As far as I was concerned, the only Sebastian was the one you pretended to be – someone you had created – not a real person.”

 

“And you still couldn’t wait to fuck him, could you?  What is this thing you have for good-looking servants who are so desirable that you can’t wait to get your cock out – or in?” 

 

“Oh, there’s no point in talking to you about this, is there?” exclaimed the dwarf indignantly, and he marched off into the bedroom to fetch his bag.

 

Thranduil was almost immediately upon him and he grabbed his arm and spun him around.  “Do you think I can ever kiss you again when I know your mouth has been around another man’s cock?”

 

“Who says that you’re going to get the chance?” snorted Thorin; and he shook Thranduil off and tried to make his exit from the room, clutching his bag.

 

The elf’s fury only seemed to increase.  “Yes, go on, run away!  That’s your only answer, isn’t it, when you know you’ve done something wrong!”

 

It wasn’t Thranduil who threw the first punch in the end, but Thorin.  He spun on his heel and smacked the elven king in the face.

 

“Ow!” exclaimed the elf in surprise and, having thought for only a split second, he hit Thorin back.  The dwarf was caught off balance and tumbled backwards onto the floor.  Immediately, Thranduil was upon him, sitting astride his hips and grasping him by the collar.  “Admit you were in the wrong and apologise,” he hissed, twisting the material and bending down almost nose to nose with his lover.

 

“Never!” choked the dwarven king.  And his lips – which were going a bit blue – compressed in a tight line.

 

Well, Thranduil was trapped, really.  There was only one of two things that he could do: he could either strangle Thorin – or he could kiss him – even if those lips had only recently been sucking Sebastian’s cock so lasciviously.  The elf swallowed his pride.  That beautiful face was so very, very close and he couldn’t resist.  Closing the gap between them, he kissed him.   Thorin let go of the bag that he was still clutching determinedly in one hand and pulled his partner to him.  Thranduil scrabbled frantically with the buttons on Thorin’s breeches and then he dipped his head and drew the dwarven king’s throbbing cock into his mouth.

 

Thorin wanted to make some scathing remark about mouths and cocks but he was too far gone to think of one.  Instead, he tossed and threshed and moaned on the floor until two weeks’ worth of sexual tension was unleashed.

 

“What a whore you are,” he finally gasped.   “Is that the only way you can win an argument?”

 

“But an enjoyable way,” smirked the elf and he tucked the sleepy dwarf under his arm.  They both fell asleep on the floor and it was dark by the time they woke up.  Then they crawled into bed, shedding their clothes as they went, and nothing more was said about the matter that night.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

Thranduil woke up the next morning to find the dwarf glaring at him.

 

“So tell me all about Sebastian,” he snapped.  “From the beginning.”

 

“Well, umm,” was the muttered response.  “I decided I wanted a court artist and all the best ones at the time were men from Minas Tirith who were used to doing court portraits for the great lords there.  Sebastian came with his samples and he seemed just what I was after.  Among other things, I wanted him to paint a portrait of me  – which is why I dashed off from Erebor because I had a sitting with him.”

 

Thorin was slightly mollified.  “So, why did you decide to disguise yourself as him when you used your glamourie to trick me?”

 

The elf shrugged.  “Why not?  He’s tall and blond like me and it didn’t require many changes to do the trick…….But what I hadn’t imagined would happen was that you would fall in love with him.”

 

Thorin seized Thranduil by the chin as they lay together on the pillow.  “Listen!” he said harshly.  “I fell in love with another version of you and not with Sebastian.  How much more reassurance do you need?”

 

The elven king looked wretched.

 

“And you deserve to suffer,” continued Thorin, “after all your foolishness.”

 

“Kiss it better,” Thranduil suddenly murmured, holding up his lips.  Thorin rolled his eyes but kissed him anyway.  And soon he was on top of him and then inside him; and, after that, there seemed nothing much left to argue about.

 

.o00o.

 

It was only later, after the elven king had gone off to one of his endless meetings, that Thorin thought about the painting that had been done of his lover.  He became so curious that, in the end, he made his way down to the studio.  He would not only search for the portrait, he would also apologise to Sebastian for the offence he had given him.

 

He stuck his head around the studio door cautiously. Sebastian looked up from a painting he was working on and grinned.  Well, he didn’t look especially offended, thought the dwarf and he edged into the room.

 

“Err, I’ve come to apologise for that assault upon you yesterday,” he started.  “I genuinely thought you were someone else and I can’t express how mortified I feel.”

 

Sebastian’s grin widened.  “No offence taken,” he laughed.  “In fact, that was the beginning of such a good blow job that I was just wondering if you were intending to come back and finish it off.”

 

Thorin went a bright pink.  “I don’t think that Thranduil would be pleased if I did,” he mumbled.

 

“Shame,” Sebastian murmured and he gave Thorin such a seductive look that the king decided that it might be a good idea not to spend too much time alone with him in case he was backed into a dark corner.  Now that he had time to look at the young man properly, he couldn’t imagine why he had made such a mistake when he had seen him the previous afternoon.  His skin bore blemishes that neither Thranduil nor ‘his’ Sebastian shared.  His hair was coarser, his stature was shorter, his hands less elegant, his voice far less melodic.  Thranduil had actually improved upon the original considerably when he had chosen a model for his deception. In the cold light of day, the artist from Minas Tirith just didn’t have the same sexual draw – he was very glad to say.

 

Thorin cleared his throat.  “I believe you have recently finished a portrait of Thranduil and I’d love to see it.”

 

Sebastian smiled, pleased at the interest.  “Yes, here it is.  I’m just giving it some minor finishing touches.”  And he whisked off a sheet that was covering a large painting on an easel.  Thorin stood there mesmerised.

 

It was a beautiful portrait.  Thranduil stared out at him provocatively, his glance enticing and inviting all at once.  The elven king lounged sideways on the long studio couch, one arm resting on his lean and languorous thighs which stretched out along the seating, the other draped over the end of the sofa, the long, sensitive fingers of the hand drooping with languid grace.  He was dressed in a loose, silken robe which fell off at one shoulder, exposing his ivory skin, and Thorin was sure that he could almost see one nipple.  The long, platinum hair fell seductively about his face and he looked at Thorin from under golden brows and through half-closed eyes. 

 

Thorin gave a shuddering sigh.  “That’s very lovely,” he said.  “You have captured him to the life.”  Sebastian’s lips curved in a self-satisfied smirk and he made a little bow.  He knew he was good: that’s why Thranduil had employed him.

 

But, then, as Thorin stared into the elven king’s eyes, a realisation came to him and, suddenly turning on his heel, he stormed from the room.  Sebastian shook his head.  No, he would never, _never_ understand the workings of the elven and dwarven mind and he wondered how long he could tolerate living here, even at the generous rate of pay that he had been offered.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

When Thranduil got back to his apartment later that afternoon, it was to find Thorin pacing around angrily.  “You!” spat the dwarf venomously, pointing a shaking finger at him.

 

“Er, yes, it’s me,” said the startled elf.  “Shall l go out and come in again so that we can have another try?”  And he reached for the door handle.

 

“You!” shouted Thorin once more.  “Stay precisely where you are, you treacherous, unfaithful creature!”

 

“Who, me?” asked the king.  “What am I supposed to have done now?”

 

Thorin spluttered.  “Now I know…..Now.  I.  Know…. what this has all been about!  I have seen the portrait that has been done of you!”

 

“Yes, good, isn’t it?” blinked Thranduil in confusion.

 

“Good?!  It makes me go hard just looking at it!”

 

Thranduil grinned smugly.

 

“The way you are exposing yourself!  The way you are staring so seductively right out from the frame.  It’s obscene!  And who are you staring at, may I ask?  You are staring at Sebastian as he paints you.  No wonder you chose to replicate him.  You know every inch of his body, don’t you?  You’re obsessed with him and can’t keep your eyes off him!  Nor your hands either, I can imagine.  Is that why you know him so well – enough to reproduce him - because you’ve explored every inch of his body?”

 

Thorin paced around a bit more whilst the elven king stood with his mouth open.  “A court painting!  And where will it hang, I’d like to know?  In the dining hall where everyone will be able to see your lust for the one who painted you?  You have made me into a laughingstock and our marriage into a sham!”  He paused to catch his breath.

 

“Have you finished?” asked Thranduil.

 

Thorin stood there panting, with a hurt look in his eyes.

 

“The painting,” continued Thranduil, “will hang neither in the dining hall nor, in fact, anywhere in Mirkwood but in your bedroom back in Erebor.  It is designed to keep you company whilst I’m away.  As Sebastian painted, I stared over his shoulder, imagined all my love and lust for you and tried to put it into my eyes.  I’m glad I succeeded so well.  I would have deemed a less than massive erection from you rather a failure.”  And he gave a shout of laughter.  “Nor, indeed, have I ever laid a single finger upon Sebastian – unlike a certain someone.”  And he flung a wry look at the dwarven king who still stood there, his breast heaving.

 

Thranduil reached out and touched his lover’s face gently.  “Idiot,” he whispered.

 

Thorin’s anger drained away all in a moment and he turned his head into the elf’s palm and kissed it.  “How can I make things up to you?” he sighed.

 

“You can have your portrait done for me too,” Thranduil laughed, “and you must put as much love and lust into your eyes as I managed to put into mine.  I’m looking forward to a pornographic painting of you hanging on my wall.”

 

Thorin’s heart sank.  He understood Thranduil’s desire for his portrait but he was concerned about being in an intimate situation with Sebastian.  The artist might make advances on him after all that misplaced cock-sucking of the previous day or, even worse, he, himself, might be tempted by the young man just as he had been tempted by the Thranduil version of Sebastian.  He thought it unlikely but he just didn’t want to put it to the test.

 

But, when the elf gazed sharply at his hesitation, he knew he had to go through with it and nodded his head.  “I’ll sort it out tomorrow,” he said.

 

.o00o.

 

The next day found him in the studio once more.  Thranduil had already sent Sebastian a note about his requirements and the artist was ready for him.  Thorin felt slightly apprehensive but Sebastian gestured politely to a screen and suggested that he got changed behind it.

 

“My lord Thranduil wants you to wear this,” he said, handing over a silken dressing-gown.  The dwarven king grimaced: he recognised it and it was so short that it barely covered his backside.  It was just the thing when he and his lover were alone together but not the sort of garment that he wanted to wear when a strange young man was staring at him all day long.  However, with a sigh of resignation, he disappeared off behind the screen.

 

He emerged some minutes later, tying the knot of the belt tightly and tugging at the hem.  “How do you want me?” he asked and then wished he hadn’t put it that way when he saw the amused gleam in the artist’s eye.

 

“Stretched out on the sofa, just like my lord Thranduil’s pose,” was the reply.

 

Thorin eased himself down carefully on the sofa and, leaning one elbow on the end rest, coyly placed his other arm along the length of his muscular thigh so that it pinned down the hem of the silken robe.  Sebastian sucked the end of his paintbrush and studied the dwarf for some time.

 

“No, that pose doesn’t suit you,” he finally concluded.  “We need something more masculine.  Now, if you will just permit me to rearrange you.”  And he stepped forward and, taking the arm that so usefully pinned down the robe, placed it instead along the back of the couch and then hooked a hand behind Thorin’s knee and bent it in a raised position.  “There, that’s better,” he said.

 

No, it was not better as far as Thorin was concerned.  The robe gaped open down the front revealing his hairy chest and, worse, it fell apart at the bottom, exposing his genitals.

 

“ _Just_ a bit of rearranging necessary,” murmured Sebastian.  And he bent forward and exposed even more of Thorin’s chest - “Very manly,” was the comment – and then he carefully tucked the dwarven king’s cock away so that the hem just about covered all the rude bits.  Thorin didn’t like the way that his fingers seemed to linger but was grateful for small mercies.

 

“Perfect!” exclaimed Sebastian.  And, after that, Thorin didn’t dare move in case the robe fell away once more.  The artist turned to his easel, a grin of amusement on his lips and then attended to his subject.

 

.o00o.

 

Well, Sebastian enjoyed the next three days, even if the dwarven king didn’t.  Being a painter gave him the right to stare unhindered – and Thorin was certainly worth staring at.  He tried being a bit flirtatious from time to time in case his subject was up for another blowjob, but the king stoically resisted him.

 

Thorin, meanwhile, stared fixedly at a point behind Sebastian’s left ear and did his best to get the sort of look in his eyes that he knew Thranduil required.  This was tricky since, every time he began to think about his lover, his cock began to twitch and then he hastily had to try and multiply 13 by 26 before returning to his lustful thoughts again.  He was in a very bad mood by the time the painting was finished.

 

And he knew, he just knew that Thranduil was trying to test his fidelity again – why else had he sent that robe down to the studio for him to wear if it wasn’t to set up some kind of sexual tension between him and Sebastian?  The spot behind Sebastian’s ear became the recipient of his very best angry glares.  And Thranduil was the recipient of no-sex-at-all as a bad-tempered Thorin climbed into bed every night and turned his back on him.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt V

 

At the end of the third day, Sebastian let out a loud sigh.  And, as soon as he began to murmur, “I think I’ve fin-,” Thorin was off the sofa and behind the screen before he could say, “-ished.”

 

When the dwarf emerged properly clothed, the young man had covered his painting and moved the easel to a corner of the room.

 

“So, when do we get to see it?” asked Thorin.

 

“I can give you both a full viewing tomorrow,” said Sebastian.  “Any time.”

 

But, when he told Thranduil, the elven king laughed.  “I’ve waited three days already; so, if he thinks I’m going to wait any more…”  And he marched off down to the studio with Thorin trotting in his wake.

 

They walked into the darkened studio and lit the lamps.  Thranduil locked the door behind them.  “There it is,” Thorin pointed out and the elven king stood opposite the veiled painting, leaning on the end of the couch, where he would have a good view.

 

“Let’s see it, then,” he said.

 

Thorin pulled off the covering and saw Thranduil’s jaw drop and his eyes widen; then he hurried to stand next to the elf so that he had a good view too.

 

 _Oh, no,_ he thought, _I shan’t hear the end of this.  Of all the expressions to capture on my face, why did Sebastian choose this one?_

 

He tried to forestall Thranduil’s complaints which he was sure were coming.  “I put everything into this, my love, I really did.  The trouble is, every time I tried to think lustful thoughts about you, I got the start of an erection.  I’m really sorry that I finished up glowering.”

 

Thranduil took a deep breath and Thorin waited for the tirade.

 

“It’s wonderful,” he sighed, “absolutely wonderful.   I just love that glower.  It’s completely you.  I could come just standing here looking at you.”  The dwarven king was dumbstruck as his partner continued: “And the rest of you.  It’s so realistic that it’s almost as if I could run my hands inside that robe and touch you.  It’s perfect masturbatory material.  I can see me having to turn it to the wall if I don’t want to exhaust myself when you’re away.”

 

“You like it?” asked the dwarf in amazement.  “But, I look so mean.”

 

Thranduil turned towards him and grinned.  “And I love your mean look.  If ever there was a facial expression that turned me on, it’s your glower.  I’m a puddle at your feet when you do that.”

 

Thorin grinned slowly back.  “You should have told me and I would have glowered more often.”

 

“Oh, have no fear, my love,” he laughed.  “You do it often enough – you just don’t realise it.”  And he turned towards the dwarven king, took him in his arms and kissed him.  “Fuck me,” he murmured in his ear.

 

Thorin was just about to comply when he suddenly realised that he had the upper hand.   “Ask me nicely,” he whispered back.

 

The elf hesitated for a moment and then said, a bit tersely: “Fuck me….please.”

 

Thorin pushed harder.  “A bit more subservience?” he suggested, grinning to himself.

 

There was a long pause but Thranduil’s cock was throbbing uncomfortably: “Fuck me, please…..sir,” he finally said through gritted teeth.

 

“My pleasure,” said Thorin.  And he spun the elf around and bent him over the couch in the submissive position that Thranduil often forced upon him but was very reluctant to take up himself.  The elf hissed between his teeth in indignation but made no attempt to struggle free.  Thorin gleefully spat on one hand and pushed two fingers up his backside, scissoring his lover open wide enough to thrust his own swollen cock inside.

 

Thranduil screamed in pleasure.  “Harder,” he gasped.

 

“Try again,” panted Thorin.

 

“Harder, please….sir,” Thranduil  groaned.

 

“Keep looking at the painting,” ordered the dwarf.

 

The elven king obediently lifted his head and fixed his eyes on the canvas.  The image of Thorin glowered down at him and he came on a powerful wave of sensation.  With a whoop, Thorin came too.

 

.o00o.

 

 

In the early hours of the morning, the two kings staggered back to the apartment and fell into bed.  “I’ll have you as my servant one way or another,” murmured Thorin in Thranduil’s ear.  “No need to transform into Sebastian.  But it would be nice if you would tie your hair back in a man-bun, you know, just like his.”

 

The elven king sniffed.  “I’ll think about it,” he said.  But, he had to admit secretly to himself that he had enjoyed the session in the studio.  Not that he was going to let Thorin know that, of course.  And he pulled the dwarf into his arms and snuggled down to sleep.

 

.o00o.

 

**So, the situation with Sebastian has been resolved, and, as usual, there has been a happy conclusion.  How fortunate that the real Sebastian is an artist and that now the two kings each have a bit of erotica to hang on their walls.   Hope you enjoyed that.  See you next time.**

**Remember that this is a series.  The first story is: King of the Antlered Throne.  Click on _Two Kings_ in the header to see all my stories about these two.**

 

 

 

 


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